The Baker's Girl
by thinkpink23
Summary: Remember reading "The Highwayman?" There was Bess, the highwayman, and the jealous ostler Tim. But suppose it was a story about a poor baker's girl, thieving from stores, but came every night to see the librarian's assistant...until the inevitable ending.
1. Part I

**Well, I read "The Highwayman" for my English class. Someone asked how he could bend his knees without having wrinkled clothes (because it says "they fitted with never a wrinkle") and someone else responded, "He can break the laws of physics just like Pinkie Pie!" And all of a sudden I had an image of Pinkie Pie galloping up to a door on a cold dark night...**

**So, hopefully you now know why I didn't make Spike the highwayman come to visit Rarity. And I'm sorry for turning Rarity into Tim the ostler...but at least I said she was beautiful and not have moldy hay hair. Poor Tim, no wonder Bess didn't like him.**

**Disclaimer: My Little Pony belongs to Hasbro, Friendship is Magic also belongs to Hasbro but also partly to Lauren Faust.**

**Second Disclaimer: "The Highwayman" was written by Alfred Noyes and is a good poem. You should read it if you haven't already.**

* * *

PART I

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the apple trees,  
The moon was a lunar princess who walked through cloudy seas,  
The path was a ribbon of moonlight over the grassy moor,  
And the baker's girl came trotting—  
Trotting—trotting—  
The baker's girl came trotting, up to the library's door.

She'd a tangle of curls on her forehead, a sweet and dimpled chin,  
An evening dress of red velvet, and slippers pink as her skin;  
They fitted with never a wrinkle, hiding the cutie mark on her thigh!  
And she trotted with a joyful twinkle,  
A lovely mischievous twinkle,  
A sweetly smiling twinkle, a twinkle in her eye.

Over the cobbles she clattered and clashed in the library yard,  
She tried the front door and the back, but all was locked and barred;  
She hummed a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there  
But the librarian's dragon assistant,  
Spike, the librarian's assistant,  
Holding a lighted candle, waiting for his mare.

And dark in the dark of the shadows a rickety old fence creaked  
Where the local seamstress listened; her face was white and peaked;  
Her eyes were a dazzling midnight blue, she'd not a single hair astray,  
And she loved the librarian's assistant,  
The librarian's charming assistant,  
Quiet as a mouse she listened, and she heard the pink one say—

"One kiss, my little Spikey, I'm getting some flour tonight,  
But I'll be back with fresh-baked cupcakes before the morning light;  
Yet, if there is no flour, or an unfortunate baking delay,  
Then look for me by moonlight,  
Watch for me by moonlight,  
I'll come to you by moonlight, nothing can scare me away."

She rose up on her back hooves, she scarce could touch his claw,  
But he dropped a piece of paper, and she blushed at what she saw;  
A love letter addressed to her, she did nothing but adore;  
And she read it softly in the moonlight,  
(Oh, beautiful words in the moonlight!)  
Then she blew a kiss in the moonlight, and galloped away to the store.

* * *

**I know it's short. I'm sorry. Part II will come in its time.**


	2. Part II

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed or read this story! It means a lot!**

**Oh yeah, and I'm assuming they don't have muskets in Equestria. What they do have is pie cannons. Which therefore allows me to lower the rating to K. *thumbs up***

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PART II

She did not come in the morning, she did not come at noon,  
And out of the golden sunset, before Luna rose the moon,  
When the path was a dressmaker's ribbon, looping the grassy moor,  
A pegasi troop came marching—  
Marching—marching—  
Celestia's guards came marching, up to the library's said no word to the librarian, they tore her books instead,

But they gagged her assistant and tied him to the foot of his little bed.  
Two of them stood at the window, with pastry catapults at their side!  
There was pie at every window;  
And pain at one dark window;  
For Spike could see, through the casement, the road _Pinkie_ would ride.

They had tied him up to attention, with familiar white and violet lace;  
They had bound a cannon beside him, with a pie aimed towards his face!  
"Now, keep good watch!" they teased him.  
Spike heard his equine say—  
_Look for me by moonlight;  
__Watch for me by moonlight;  
__I'll come to you by moonlight, nothing will scare me away!_

He twisted his claws behind him, but all the knots were tight!  
Through the night he writhed and stretched, and would not give up the fight.  
His claws strained against the knots till morning would soon be nigh.  
And now, on the stroke of midnight,  
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,  
The tip of his finger touched it. The button to launch the pie!

The tip of one finger touched it, but he left the cannon in place.  
Up, he stood to attention, the pastry still aimed at his face,  
He would not risk their hearing, he would not strive again;  
For the path lay bare in the moonlight;  
Blank and bare in the moonlight;  
And his heart, pounding in the moonlight, beat to his love's refrain.

_Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot! _Had they heard it? Her horse-hooves ringing clear;  
_Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, _in the distance? Were they deaf, could they not hear?  
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the grassy hill,  
The baker's girl came trotting,  
Trotting, trotting!  
The royal guards looked to their pastries. Spike stood up, straight and still!

_Tlot-tlot,_ in the frosty silence! _Tlot-tlot, _in the darkness of night!  
Nearer she came, and nearer! She knew not of the coming fright!  
Spike's eyes grew wide for a moment; he wished for a last embrace,  
But he moved his claw in the moonlight,  
Pressed the button in the moonlight,  
The baker's girl fled in the moonlight. Spike had warned her, with a pie to his face.

She turned and galloped West, moving fast and completely unwary  
Of who stood in the library's top floor, drenched with crust and cherry.  
Not till the morning she heard it, her eyes lost glow to hear  
How Spike, the librarian's assistant,  
The librarian's dragon assistant,  
Had watched for his love in the moonlight, and got pied in the darkness there.

Back, she ran like a lunatic, wanting only to avenge her friend,  
With the dust kicked up behind her, she cared not how this would end!  
Bright red was her face in the golden noon, crimson red was her matted mane,  
When they took aim and fired on the highway,  
The pies coming down on the highway,  
And she lay in the cherries on the highway, the crumbly crust and the vivid red stain.

* * *

_And still on a winter's night, they say, when the wind blows the apple trees,  
__When the moon is a lunar princess walking through cloudy seas,  
__When the path is a ribbon of moonlight over the grassy moor,  
__A baker's girl comes trotting—  
__Trotting—trotting—  
__A baker's girl comes trotting, up to the library's door._

_Over the cobbles she clatters and clangs in the library yard,  
__She tries the front door and the back, but all is locked and barred;  
__She hums a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there  
__But the librarian's dragon assistant,  
__Spike, the librarian's assistant,  
__Holding a lighted candle, waiting for his mare._


End file.
